12 Fics Roy x Jean
by seaweedfma
Summary: I wrote these for the 12 Fics Live Journal Community. Roy x Jean paring, various ratings and spoilers. Rated M overall. These cover both the mangaverse and the animeverse. There is everything from humor to angst and straight up yaoi. Read and enjoy!
1. Theme 1: Hunger

Title: Hunger  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set + Theme: #1, #1-Hunger  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang (Romantic)  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance/Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1109  
Disclaimer: Silly fully Yaoi goodness.  
Summary: Hunger comes in many forms.

**

"So, we are going out tonight then?" Roy couldn't help but smile at Jean's enthusiasm. He was like a little puppy.

And Roy had a firm hold on his leash.

Roy sighed and smiled, leaning over to give his lover a short kiss on the end of his nose. "Yes. We are going out tonight. That State dinner that I was supposed to attend was postponed, so I have a rare free evening. And there is nothing that I would want more than to spend it with you."

Jean rolled over in bed, giving his lover a hug and a kiss. "Oh, good. I was beginning to think that you were married to your job." He flashed a broad, goofy smile and rolled back over, sitting up in bed. "I am gonna take a quick smoke break before we have to get up and ready for work."

"Okay. I will be up in a moment." Roy watched happily as the man stood up and stretched for just a moment, then walked out of the bedroom without even bothering to put on any more than the tight black t-shirt that he knew drove Roy crazy- because it accentuated all of his muscles, and his long, loose boxer shorts that he had already been wearing in bed.

He had to smile at the man. It had been a very long time since they had been able to go out to dinner together. And even though it would never be like a normal "date", it was still time that they had to spend together. Nobody else in the restaurant ever knew that it was more than two friends having a friendly conversation over dinner, they both understood what it meant, and that was what was important.

Roy knew, While he would never admit it to anyone, he was well aware that most men were ruled by their stomachs. Jean was definitely a man by that definition.

As long as the man had his food, and his cigarettes, he was happy. That was another reason that Roy loved to go to dinner with Jean. He would happily munch away at his food, enjoying each bite.

He had heard that smokers sometimes weren't able to taste things as well as others, so that would explain why he loved to slather his food with hot sauce, gravy, salt and pepper, or whatever other spices or condiments that he could get his hands on. And when he ate, Roy could tell that he would savor every mouthful, like somehow it was going to be his last.

He wasn't like Fullmetal, who just shoveled food down his gullet like it was going out of style. They both at a lot, but with Jean, it was an art. to the kid, it was just something he had to do, so he seemed to rush to get it over with, so he could continue with whatever he had been doing before.

The alchemist yawned and stretched, reluctantly pulling the covers off himself and shivering in the sudden cold. He stood up and silently padded over to the bathroom, and took care of his usual morning routine.

By the time he was done, Jean walked back into the room, with a much more relaxed, subdued look on his face. It never ceased to amaze Roy how much just one cigarette totally changed Jean's countenance. He hated that the man smoked.

He knew it was a bad habit, but he also knew that it would be terribly unfair to take the away from him. Jean knew that Roy didn't approve, but they didn't talk about it, and that was how it stayed.

"Hey, love."

"Hey, Jean." Roy walked over to him and kissed him fully on the lips. He still smelt like cigarettes and his aftershave, even though the alchemist felt the scruff of the man's unshaven face. His hair was messier then usual, his blonde spike poking out any which way they could. He chuckled.

"What?!" Jean looked slightly hurt and confused that his lover seemed to be laughing at him.

Roy gave him another kiss to placate him, then walked past him and out of the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. "Nothing. You just look so cute in the  
morning, that is all."

Jean smiled and followed him towards the main part of the small house.

"What do you mean the state dinner is back on?" Roy cringed at Jean's raised voice, suddenly glad that he had closed the office door behind him after inviting his lover in to give him the bad news.

"I'm sorry, Jean." I don't like it either. Even if I wanted to, which I do, I couldn't turn down a State supported event. Not if I want to keep rising up in the ranks."

"Of course." Jean rolled his eyes, the venom evident in his voice. "'Cause we all know that is what is really important." He crossed his arms and looked longingly out the window, wishing silently he was outside. He desperately needed a smoke break.

Roy stood up quickly, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. "Listen." He spat back. "You and I both know that what we have is forbidden. Right now, what I need to do is concentrate on becoming Fuhrer. I will do everything in my power to make things better then, but until that time, we have to be careful, and we have to be safe."

Jean sighed and ran his head through his spiky blond hair. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just.. that I was really looking forward to tonight. I am hungry."

The alchemist smiled and walked around the desk and over to Jean, giving him a quick kiss. He wanted to do more, so much more, but he knew even with a closed door, this wasn't a safe place. "I promise that when I get home tonight, I will feed you."

"But- won't you be home very late? And I am sure that they will feed you at that little shindig you are going to, right?"

Roy winked and walked past Jean, giving him a little grope as he did. "Sometimes, a man doesn't need food to sate his hunger.' he smiled over his shoulder and opened the door to his office and walked out, whistling a tune.

Jean stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, digesting his lover's words. By the time he did, Roy was already leaving he building, getting ready to head towards a meeting that he really didn't want to attend. His mind, as usual, was on his lover- and his hunger for the touch of Jean Havoc.


	2. Theme 2: Addiction

Title: Addiction  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #2- Addiction  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG-13  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: Some implied yaoi- nothing graphic  
Word Count: 1161  
Disclaimer: No spoilers, really  
Summary: Some addictions are safer than others

There was little that Jean Havoc loved more than the few minutes that he could get away from everyone and everything, step out of the building, and take a cigarette break.

They were never long enough, and he had gotten good at what he called 'power puffing'. He didn't get the time to enjoy the cigarette because he inhaled it so quickly, but at least he still got the benefit of the nicotine getting into his system. And then there were the very rare occasions that Roy Mustang actually got to take a few minutes out of his very busy schedule, and was able to accompany Jean on his cigarette breaks on the back lawn of Central Command.

As much as they both hated it, they had to stay professional, even when they were away from the prying eyes inside the building. The few times when they were able to get a few minutes together, they were careful about what they said or did. But it always started the same way.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

"Hello, Colonel. Light, sir?" Jean would always ask, and Roy already knew. He already had the glove on his hand, his fingers at the ready. One snap, and the deed was done. The flame wildly danced up towards the sky. The extraordinarily flammable paper turned red for less than a heartbeat before it dulled to a charcoal gray. Seconds later, the tobacco on the inside caught fire as well. With a few brief inhales, the nicotine started to swim throughout his system.

Roy watched with a smile as his lover's face turned calm. All the worry and stress that has been showing in his bright blue eyes just melted away. His shoulders slumped slightly, and as he let out the first long, smoky breath, the alchemist saw him relax his entire body.

"Thanks, sir." The smile on his face told the whole story. He sank down into a sitting position next to the alchemist, with his back to the huge oak, trying to decide how slowly he could smoke the cigarette and still not get in trouble for taking so long of a break. Of course, having his commanding officer (and lover) with him on his break meant that he could make the excuse that he had been helping him with something. Mustang would, of course, coo-berate, and there was little else that Hawkeye could say about it.

Roy smiled. He could think of several things that he would love to "help" Jean with, but even a man with as many connections and as much influence as the Flame Alchemist still couldn't get away from the stigma of having a male lover.

Usually, little else would be said during these times. Jean was busy concentrating on the warm feeling of the cigarette between his teeth, and Roy enjoyed simply watching him enjoy this time he had almost to himself. It was a simple, happy time that they were able to enjoy in each other's company- together, yet not.

When it was finally done, Jean would let out a sigh, and keep the last breath of smoke waiting on the inside of his mouth for as long as he could, until he started to turn pale. His stomach churned and his lungs burned for oxygen. And just when he thought that he was going to turn blue and pass out, he let the breath out and took in a huge gasp of air, refilling his aching lungs with fresh, non smoky air.

"Ready, lieutenant?" Roy would always ask, offering his hand to help the taller man stand back up. As fast as he smoked those cigarettes, Jean usually ended up feeling slightly light headed for a few minutes until his system got used to the nicotine rush.

"Thank you, sir." Jean would, of course, always accept the hand up. And Roy never failed to give Jean's hand a small extra squeeze, holding onto it for just a couple of seconds more than was necessary after the tall man has gotten to his feet before letting go. Even just that little extra bit of contact that he got those few times they were able to meet outside was enough to sustain them throughout the day.

That minor touch became as much of an addiction for Jean as the nicotine from the cigarettes themselves. He craved even the slightest touch from his forbidden lover. And if they could get away with in a public area was all the better. Neither of them were particularly into anything kinky like exhibitionism, but the idea that they could give each other small signs of affection that were secret to the entire world- save them, gave them both that little extra incentive to get out of bed every day and trudge through the drudgery of the work day.

The knowing smile that they shared at that brief handhold only lasted a second, but that was all that was needed. Then, the masks of everyday life would go back on, and they would walk back to the building as a solider and his commanding officer.

At night, after the uniforms had come off and the roles of solider and officer has been left at the front door, Jean Havoc's two addictions came back to him with an even greater sense of urgency. He always have to have a cigarette first- no matter how much his body begged for his lover's touch, the alchemist's soft, full lips against his.

"Light, sir?" Just like when they were at work. It would start the same way. and just like at work, Roy would have the glove ready. Jean would smoke the cigarette even faster than he did at work. It never ceased to amaze Roy. This was the one time that the man had to actually enjoy his addiction, and he tried to get through it like a marathon runner in a race.

"You know, Jean. You can take your time. I'm not going anywhere." Roy smiled seductively and leaned against the doorway leading to the back porch- where Jean always took his smoke breaks at.

"I know, sir. But I don't want to waste the little bit of time that I get to spend with you."

In one practiced, fluid motion, Roy leaned forward, plucked the cigarette out of the man's mouth, and put it in the ashtray.- still half unsmoked and smoldering. "You can finish it later, lieutenant. That's an order." In the save movement, he pulled his hand away from the ashtray, grabbed Jean's wrist, and tugged him towards himself.

Jean gave one longing look at the cigarette- the end slowly fading from red to gray before falling forwards against a more insistent tug from his lover. "Yes, sir." Jean smiled and saluted, needing no further prodding to follow the alchemist towards the bedroom.

It was moments like these which Jean Havoc wondered which addiction had a harder hold on him, his cigarettes, or his lover.


	3. Theme 3: Temptation

Title: Temptation  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set + Theme: #1, #18-Temptation (replacing #3-Lottery)  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang (Romantic)  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1109  
Disclaimer: Silly fully Yaoi goodness.  
Summary: Hunger comes in many forms.

**

"Man, this place is huge!" Master Sgt. Jean Havoc looked up at the building with wide blue eyes. As tall as he was, he still had to crane his neck far back to take in the whole scope of the building.

He blinked a couple of times, then pulled out and uncrumpled the severely folded piece of paper from his uniform pocket and read it for at least the tenth time that day.

"Lt. Colonel Roy Mustang. 3rd story, room 308. Hmm. I wonder what kind of commanding officer he will be? I hope he isn't real strict like my last C.O., back in boot camp. "He shivered and shoved the paper back in his pocket. "Oh well. I guess there is only one way to find out."

He took one last pull off of his cigarette and dropped it in the ashcan by the front steps of Central Command and started to walk up the steps. "Oh well. Here goes nothing."

After close to half an hour of aimlessly wandering around the building- first trying to find the stairwell, then trying to find which of the many hallways housed room 308, Havoc finally came to a plain, darkly stained wood door on and oddly bluish two toned wall.

Havoc knocked at the door. "Come in." was the almost monotone response from behind the wood. He opened the door slowly and peeked his head inside. "Um, Lt. Colonel Mustang, sir?"

"Yes, what is it?" The man didn't even look up from his paperwork to answer. He sounded rather annoyed at being disturbed.

The young officer walked fully into the room, standing up straight and saluting. "Master Sgt. Jean Havoc, reporting for duty, sir!" Mustang finally looked up from his paperwork for just a moment, only long enough to return the salute and point to a chair, then he looked down again.

"At ease, Master Sgt. Please, have a seat." Havoc relaxed and took one of the seats at the hug table that seemed to dwarf the rest of the room in the dead center. "I just need to finish up a little bit of paperwork. I will be with you in just a moment."

"Um, okay, sir." Havoc really didn't know what else to say, so he crossed his legs and nervously tapped his foot lightly and looked around the room. It was sparsely furnished.

Except for the giant table that was in the middle of the room, there was only Mustang's desk that sat against the outer wall, with several windows behind it, a couple of more wooden chairs scatter around the room that matched the table, and one well worn, overstuffed black leather couch to finish out the large, mostly empty office.

Inevitably, his eyes wandered back to his new commanding officer, who now had his eyes focused down on the papers that still sat on his desk, frustration showing plainly on his face and low, mumbled curses falling occasionally from his mouth, so softly that Havoc almost didn't hear them.

His foot tapping grew louder and faster, his military issued boots now tapping  
loudly on the linoleum floor. Why couldn't he take his eyes off of that man? He was certainly not like anyone else he had ever seen before.

The first thing that had struck him were those eyes. He had never seen anything like them, thin and deep black. He looked almost foreign with this dark hair and thin eyes. It was hard to tell while he was sitting down, but he didn't look exceptionally tall or broad.

He was not effeminate, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he looked almost... delicate. His deep voice and hard eyes belayed even that description. As he turned all of this over and over in his head, Havoc's eyes knitted, trying to think of a good way to describe the man.

Handsome.

Havoc coughed and shook his head vigorously, as if that would help him shake those thoughts out of his head, and attempted to push that back to the furthest part of his mind as he could.

"Is there a problem, Master Sgt.?"

His eyes went wide. 'What if he noticed? What if he knows that I am staring at him? What if- he.. liked it?' He shook his head again and cleared his throat, quickly looking away from the man's wilting gaze. "No, sir. I'm sorry. I was just staring out into space and my mind was wandering."

He made a noncommittal noise, like a grunt, and looked back down at his paperwork- at the pile that seemingly hadn't shrunk a bit. "I apologize for making you wait. Just give me one more moment."

'He isn't very friendly, but at least he is polite.' Havoc thought to himself. "Yes sir." He replied and looked back down at his boots, trying not to let his eyes wander back towards the handsome man behind the desk.

'Dammit, Havoc! Get it together!' He thought, his eyes moving from that annoying little blemish on the toe of his left boot back to the man sitting behind the desk. He tried to look away, but it was only a few moments before he was once again watching the hand that held the pen, moving lazily across the paper, the raven hair falling over his pale skin.

Why did his mouth feel dry, he wondered? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. And why did his pants suddenly feel rather tighter than they had just a few moments before? 'This can't be right,' the thought. "Not only is he your commanding officer, but he is a *man*! You like women! What about that busty blonde you went out with just a couple of weeks ago?' He groaned softly and wiggled a little more in his seat. That had made him feel even worse.

"Master Sgt. Havoc. Are you are that you are alright?" Havoc looked up from where he had forced himself to look at his boots again to see Lt. Colonel Mustang standing right in front of him. He panicked and uncrossed his legs, banging the top of his kneecap as he did so. He bit his lip trying not to cry out in pain. He looked pitifully up at his boss. "Uh, yes, sir. I'm just nervous, my first day on the job and all."

"Mustang shook his head lightly and replied in the same bored, monotone voice.  
"Alright. Let's go, then. I'm going to show you around the building, so you know the various places you will be going." Havoc just nodded dumbly. He was sure that the man could tell he was pale and sweating, his heart racing. He hesitated to stand for a moment, not sure if there would be an embarrassing sight awaiting him.

He took a few steps towards the door, then turned around. "Well? Are you coming?" Mustang sounded, and looked annoyed, and Havoc really had no intention of getting off an a bad foot with his new boss, although it looked to him like it was already too late for that.

'Just think about your mother.' He told himself. 'Your mother.' He took a deep breath, pulled back the chair, and stood up. Immediately he braved a quick look downwards at himself. Everything seemed to be alright. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, and smiled for the first time that day.

"Yes, sir, chief!" He grinned goofily and followed the man out of the door and down the hallway, only partially listening to what the man was saying. 'Whew.' He thought. "At least if I am only staring at the back of his head, I can keep this temptation at bay.'


	4. Theme 4: Hot Water

Title: Shower Time  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #4- Hot Water  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: Yaoi, but nothing explicit  
Word Count: 615  
Disclaimer: No spoilers. FMA surely isn't mine.  
Summary: He who waked up first, gets the hot water first.

**

Jean wanted nothing more than to be the first one to wake up in the mornings, so he would have the first crack at the shower. But unfortunately, that directly collided with the his need for as much sleep as humanly possible- so by the time he was blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes and rolling off the side of the bed, the other side of the bed was already empty and cold, devoid of his lover, and he could hear the shower running in the bathroom.

"Dammit. No hot water again." He grumbled, stumbling out of bed and walking, bleary eyed towards the already steam-filled bathroom, where he took care of his normal morning routine. He was careful, even in his sleepy haze, to remember to not flush the toilet. The one time that he did it, the normally hot shower turned even hotter. Roy barely avoided getting first degree burns on some very sensitive areas, and Jean narrowly avoided being roasted with a snap of the alchemist's fingers.

"Morning, love." Roy called happily from the shower, chipper as usual that he got all the hot water he wanted because he was a light sleeper and had once again woken up first.

"Mrhrm." was the grumbled response that he got as Jean splashed cold water on his face in an attempt to wake up. Once he was coherent enough that he was pretty sure he wasn't going to cut himself, he started to shave- which was the only time that he got the satisfaction of taking some of the hot water away from his early rising lover- albeit a very small amount.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Don't forget that I have to work late tonight, so don't worry about making dinner for both of us. I will scrounge up something when I get back home, later."

"Aww." Jean whined, while he splashed water on his cheeks in an attempt to wash the last of the shaving cream off of his face. "You have to work late again? That is the third time this week! I miss you."

"I know. I miss you too when I am out late, but it shouldn't be too bad tonight. It's just a little party for one of the Brigadier General's birthdays. I just need to make an appearance, then I am sure that I can duck out soon after."

"Well, okay." Jean replied, still disappointed. "Hey, can I have the shower sometime this year?" He was already starting to strip out of his sleeping clothes- a long, loose black t-shirt and an old, well worn pair of gray sweatpants, ready to hop in the moment it became available.

"You can come in with me.." Roy almost purred. Jean actually took a step towards the shower before remembering how little room was in there. As much as he absolutely loved to be as close as he could to Roy, time was starting to become a factor, and cleanliness was unfortunately paramount at the moment, heading to work.

Finally, the water stopped, and Roy stepped out- dripping wet and deadly handsome. Even as long as they had been lovers, Jean found that he never got tired of seeing the alchemist naked.

"You'll have plenty of time to stare later." Roy cooed in his ear, as he walked past the man- kissing his cheek, then wrapping a towel low around his hips. "Better get going soon, handsome."

Jean shook his head, clearing the thoughts that had already started to embarrassingly rush blood towards certain parts of his anatomy. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Okay." He replied. "I'm sure that there isn't much how water left, so I doubt I will be to terribly long."


	5. Theme 5: Greed

Title: Greed  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #5- Greed  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: EXACTLY 1500! (I would never be able to do that again!)  
Disclaimer: No spoilers, really  
Summary: Beware the green eyes monster

**

"Damnit, Jean, I'm sorry. I know you hate it when I have to work late, but you know that I want to move up in the military. And if I want to do that, then I need to make sure that I have as many friends as I can. Unfortunately, that sometimes means that I have to be ready to be called away on very short notice." Roy paused- his voice grew stern, and he pointed a finger towards the porch. "And how many times do I have to ask you to please smoke outside?"

Jean sighed and ran a rough hand through his dirty blond hair. "I know." He said dejectedly, as he exhaled one last breath of his cigarette. He walked over to the bathroom and ran the almost depleted cigarette under the water to kill the ember, then threw it in the trash, and walked back into the bedroom- where Roy had almost completed packing his small suitcase.

"But why do you have to go all the way to East City? That's 3 days away on a train!" Jean whined. "I hardly get to see you as it is. You work late almost every night."

Roy tossed in the last of his clean undershirts, and closed and fastened the small bag with a loud grunt. "I know, but as soon as this mess with Scar clears up, I should be able to take a few days off, and maybe we can go somewhere out of town- just the two of us. Hawkeye can make up some sort of a 'business trip' for us to go on. I'll be the ambassador for the Amestris military, and you'll be along as my driver and bodyguard." Roy gave his lover a sly, almost mischievous smile, his eyes thinning to near slits.

Jean shook his head and grinned. "Hmmm… guard that sexy body of yours, huh? It's a tough job, but I think I'm up to the task." He smiled and leaned in, giving the alchemist a soft kiss on the lips. "You know, there's much more where that came from- when you get back. That's just a little incentive to get this trip done as soon as possible."

"Believe me." Roy replied. "I don't need any more incentive to get this done quickly. I hate when I have to spend time away from you. I'll definitely give you a call when I get there. I may be busy afterward, so I don't know how often I will get to call you. I'll try to call you as often as I can, I promise."

"I can drive you to the train station, if you want. Hawkeye won't kill me if I go in a little bit late this morning, right?" Jean grinned rather goofily and quickly started to pull on his shiny black military issue boots.

Roy put his hand on his lover's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "It's alright, Jean. I don't want you to get in trouble. And besides, I've already called a cab." As if by divine providence, the taxi picked that exact moment to pull up outside of the apartment and honk its horn.

"Be safe, please." Jean looked pathetic, like a wet puppy dog. Roy heaved his bag over his shoulder and leaned over to Jean, giving him a long kiss on the lips- a kiss that he was loathe to stop- but the cab honked its horn again. He broke the kiss and looked sadly at the man who was sitting on the bed. He had stopped halfway through putting his boots on, and he looked up at the alchemist with big blue eyes, trying not to let them tear up.

Roy let out a long breath. He hated it when Jean gave him that sad look, it just melted his heart. "It's only for a couple of weeks, at the most. You'll be working, so the time should fly by. I'll try to call you as soon as I can. I love you."

"I love you too, Roy."

"Be good!" He called over his shoulder, with a wave, as he closed the front door behind him.

Jean sighed again, and wondered if he had time to smoke one more cigarette before he needed to head to work.

To say that Jean was distracted at work would've been a huge understatement. Even though he tried to do his job, he worried constantly about Roy. His mind kept coming up with more and more terrible and gruesome things that could have happened to him- maimed in a train wreck, or falling out of the train's window, as it chugged along at full speed. He tried to keep his mind off all the worst case scenarios, but as soon as his attention wasn't totally focused on what he was doing, his brain would inevitably jump to the newest worst conclusion.

Hawkeye finally sent him home a couple of hours after lunch, He was proving to be more of a hindrance than a help when it came to getting work done at the office.

Jean didn't hesitate for a moment as he got into the car- driving himself over to Roy's apartment- where he had seen his lover off that morning. He couldn't even remember the last time that he'd spent any reasonable amount of time at his apartment- other than grabbing some clean clothes, or getting the mail that tended to pile up after a few days of vacancy.

He arrived and let himself in- Roy had given him a key several months ago. Jean had always wanted to go ahead and move in with the man- he practically lived there anyways. But he knew that it would raise too many questions, having another man living with the colonel. Not only was he a fellow military man, but he was under the alchemist's command. Jean knew that Roy was aiming for the top, and such a volatile secret- like having a male lover- was something that just couldn't get out to anyone, save his immediate subordinates.

Jean didn't even bother to take off his uniform as he entered the apartment. He collapsed into Roy's favorite chair- a well worn, very high backed seat that had been passed down through several generations- and looked longingly at Roy's liquor cabinet. He'd never been much of a scotch drinker himself- he had always preferred a beer with the boys, over what Roy called 'refined liquor'. Jean always thought that it was way too bitter, and it burnt going down his throat (and often burnt worse when it came back up).

Nevertheless, Roy didn't usually keep beers in his tiny icebox- unless Jean went to the store and bought them himself. But he had unfortunately run out- and forgotten to visit the store on the way home- so he was stuck pouring a glass of Roy's cheapest liquor, and hoping that he didn't get roasted alive for it when the alchemist got home.

That evening, he sat- listening to one of Roy's records on his phonograph, and sipping at his scotch, and wondering if he was greedy. Was he taking up all of Roy's free time- the little that he had, and worrying too much about the alchemist when he wasn't close by? He knew that Roy was a grown man, and he could most definitely take care of himself, but that didn't stop Jean from wondering what he was doing whenever he was out of the office, or when he was working late.

Was he too clingy, he wondered? Roy had certainly never said anything, or seemed uncomfortable when Jean was around- quite the opposite, actually. Roy seemed to relax quite a bit when they were at home, in their civilian clothes- with music, drinks and food, and the company of each other. He could drop the 'colonel' act, and take off the stone mask of indifference that he wore around others- (save Jean and his best friend, Maes Hughes), and just be himself.

Jean took another sip of his drink, and let out a long breath. The alcohol was starting to get to him, and he felt groggy and sleepy. Now he remembered- that was another reason why he didn't like scotch. It went to his head much faster than beer, and Jean was a terribly sleepy drunk.

He downed the rest of his third glass of scotch, put the glass in the sink, took the needle off the record, and stumbled to the back porch to have one last cigarette before he headed to bed for the night.

Somewhere the back of his semi-inebriated mind, he made a mental note to talk to Roy once he got back- about being greedy with the man's free time. But more immediately, he had to worry about trying to sleep in Roy's large bed- alone- for the first time in months. Jean Havoc could only hope that he had had enough alcohol to quickly ease his transition into dreamland.


	6. Theme 6: Pets

Title: Charlie  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #6- Pets  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1306

Disclaimer: The name of the dog is an homage to a couple of great writers, **galuxkitty**, and **raja815**. I hope they doesn't mind.  
Summary: A wet nose can melt a cold heart.

**

Roy had never been a fan of the rain, and this night was no exception. He had forgotten his umbrella when he left for work that morning, and by the time he finally fumbled with his keys and opened the door to his small apartment (after dropping the keys into a puddle), he was wet and miserable. His clothes were soaked through, and he was freezing to the bone.

As he walked inside, the sweet smell of dinner wafted towards his nose from the kitchen, putting a smile on his face. Straight ahead of him, he saw the back of his lover's blond hair bobbing up and down as he tried to whistle a tune, but ended up horribly off key.

"That smells great!" Roy called towards the kitchen while he was hanging his soaking greatcoat and hat on the rack in the hallway. As soon as he entered the main room, his smile quickly faded as another smell assaulted his nostrils.

"What in the hell is that smell? It smells like..." He stopped for a moment to lean his head upwards and sniff into the air. "…Wet dog hair."

Roy heard whatever Jean had just been grasping in his hand fall to the tiled floor with a clatter. "Oh, yeah. About that." He took the pot off of the stove and placed it over to the side, then wiped his hands and walked over to his lover, giving him a little kiss on the cheek.

"I… um… well…" Jean stumbled. "I found a dog today. He had no tags, and he was wet and cold. He looked like he was starving. I… I just couldn't leave him out there!"

'We can't keep a dog, Jean. It's tough enough with both of us trying to cram into this little apartment. There's no way that we have enough room for a dog." Roy sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "Besides, we don't have time to take care of a dog. Both you and I work all day, and I've been putting in a lot of late nights recently. A dog needs love and attention, and we wouldn't be here to give it that."

"Hawkeye has Black Hayate." Jean replied, matter of factly. "And she lives by herself. I haven't been there, but I bet her place is even smaller than this."

"It is, but she gets to bring him to work every day, so he isn't left alone."

"So, can't we do that as well?" Jean asked, Roy's comment seemingly ignored.

"No, we can't." Roy replied. "She already has enough of a hard time bringing her dog into work. She isn't supposed to, but she has some friends in high places that are nice enough to look the other way. There's absolutely no way that they'll let another dog into the office."

Jean's face dropped. "But what're we gonna do with him?" He whined. "We can't put him back out in the rain. He'll die of starvation!"

Roy sighed again, and sank down into his favorite chair and poured himself a glass of scotch. "Well, we can't do anything with it tonight, of course." He paused for a moment to take a quick sip. "We'll have to keep it through at least tomorrow, since we're working late, but the day after that is Saturday, so we should be able to take it to a shelter then."

"So we can keep him for a couple of days?" Jean asked hopefully, his face brightening a little.

"Yes, but don't get too attached to it." Roy replied. "First thing Saturday morning we're going to take it to the shelter. They can look for its owner, or at least give it to someone who can provide it with a good, large home."

"Maybe in the next couple of days, you'll grow to like him." Jean said, his bright blue eyes shining, a wide goofy grin on his face.

"Maybe." Roy replied, bringing the glass to his face and taking a sip, a smirking grin slowly sliding across his face. "But I doubt it." Jean's face immediately dropped as he trudged, dejectedly, back to the kitchen to finish with dinner.

Dinner was served a short time later. It was a simple stir fry over rice, but that was fine with Roy. He tended to be straightforward when it came to food- give him a homemade meal with meat and vegetables over a fancy multi-course meal any day.

They ate mostly in silence, with Jean still brooding over not being able to keep the dog. When they were done, they each other to clear the table and wash the dishes like they always had. Occasionally, Jean got playful and splashed water on Roy, who of course had to defend his honor and retaliate. This often led to the pair leaving the dishes half cleaned in the sink while they retired to the bedroom.

But not that night.

After finishing the dishes, they went into the living room, where Roy refilled his scotch, and Jean started nursing a beer, still quietly moping.

"So." Roy finally said, tired of the oppressive silence that had been hanging between them all night. "Where is this thing, anyways? We've been talking about it, but I haven't seen it yet."

Jean brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled. "Here boy!" he called. A moment later, bounding out from the darkness of their bedroom, came a giant, shaggy, gray haired dog, whose shoulders easily came up to Roy's knees.

It barked happily once, it's huge, flat, pink tongue lolling to the side of its mouth, and its tail almost knocking over a vase that had been sitting on a table as it rumbled into the room. It ran headlong into Jean, skidding to a stop at the very end, and almost bowling the tall man over when it jumped up and put its paws on the man's chest, licking at his face and neck.

He affectionately rubbed the top of the dog's still slightly damp head and grinned at Roy, his previously bad mood suddenly dissipated. "See?" He asked. "Isn't he sweet? I've been calling him Charlie. I used to have an uncle named Charlie. He was a big, sweet man who also loved to give hugs."

After the initial shock of seeing the size of the beast wore off, Roy smiled and shook his head. "That sure is a lot of dog." He took a long draught from his glass. "But he looks friendly enough." As if on cue, Charlie ran over to the still sitting Roy, putting his head and front paws into the man's lap and licking him on the face. Only a quick move by Roy, with years of experience in honing his reflexes, saved the remainder of his scotch from going all over himself and his favorite chair.

"And look." Jean grinned. "I think he likes you!" He giggled and walked over, taking the glass from the alchemist's hand, since he seemed to be fairly preoccupied with sixty pounds of damp dog in his lap. "So, can we keep him?"

Roy let out a long breath, and was silent for a moment. "We'll see." He finally replied, his voice barely over a whisper and muffled with layers of fur.

Jean ran back over to Roy after depositing his glass in the sink and planted kisses all over his lover's already moist face. "Thank you, Roy! I love you!" Jean exclaimed. Years of living with him meant that Jean knew that when Roy said 'we'll see', it was his way of acquiescing without feeling like he really gave in.

"I love you too." Roy replied, trying to push the dog out of his lap so he could breathe again. 'What did I get myself into this time?' He wondered.


	7. Theme 7: Procrastination

Title: The Date  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #7- Procrastination  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 995  
Disclaimer: None  
Summary: Even a bad habit like procrastination has its perks.

If there was ever going to be a prize that would be awarded for being the king of procrastination, then Jean was pretty sure that Roy would win hands down.

Even Jean had to admit that he was no slouch when it came to trying to put things off until the last minute, but before he had come under Roy's command, he had never known anyone who could give him a run for his money at trying hard to do nothing at all.

The tall blond had assumed that this habit extended mostly to the office and his job, which was at best tedious and repetitive. He could definitely understand why Roy would not be excited about being there. Jean was unfortunately disappointed to learn, once his relationship with the colonel began, that the procrastination extended to his home life as well.

It was subtle at first. They would meet for lunch, a date that was disguised as a business meeting for the military, and the alchemist would be five or ten minutes late. He would come in, complaining that he got a late phone call, or that a meeting with the generals ran long.

For the most part, Jean didn't mind too much. He figured that it was a part of Roy's quirks and charms. It never came as a surprised to him, considering that he saw the man's work habits every single day.

Then, he took it just a little too far.

They had been planning that night for a couple of weeks. It still wasn't a true 'date', since it was generally frowned upon for two men to be in love, and especially for them to show any amount of love in public. But for the first time since they had become a couple almost six month before, they were going out at night- dressed up, to a nice restaurant- with plans to go see a play afterward. It was as close to a true date as they would ever get.

Jean had had time to go home, take a shower, and get dressed up and ready for the date, but Roy had a late meeting with some of the generals, and was going to meet Jean at the restaurant coming straight from work, at about 1900 hours.

He arrived at the restaurant about 15 minutes early, not surprised in the least that Roy hadn't arrived yet. He was shown to his seat and ordered a beer. Jean sat back and relaxed, taking in the atmosphere and watching the people around him, trying to keep from glancing at the clock on the wall every couple of minutes.

1900 hours came and went. Jean started to nurse his second beer and tapped his foot impatiently, squirming like a child trying in a room full of stuffy adults. When 15 more minutes rolled by, he started to get a little upset, and when 1930 hours came and went and there was will no Roy, the blond was nervous- scared that something had happened to his lover.

It was close to 2000 hours before Roy finally arrived. He was practically running in after bursting through the double doors at the front of the restaurant. He had a wide eyed, desperate look on his face. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, and he was breathless and panting with exhaustion.

"Jean!" He exclaimed, running past the stunned greeter who had been standing dangerously close to the doors. He quickly weaved through the tightly knit tables, and finally made his way to where Jean was sitting with his arms crossed and an upset look on his face.

"Look, I'm sorry." He said, still trying to catch his breath. "The meeting ran late, and I still had a little bit of paperwork that I needed to finish before I left-"

"You do realize that we're going to miss the play, right?" Jean replied as he leaned over the table towards Roy, his voice barely over a harsh whisper.

The alchemist sighed and rubbed his moist temples with an ungloved hand, trying to fight the headache that was throbbing at the base of his skull. "I know, and I'm sorry. It's tough for me to get an evening free. If I want to continue up towards the top, I have to stay on the generals' collective good sides. I know I always manage to screw it up." He lowered his voice as well, nervous about having this kind of conversation in public.

There were a few moments of awkward silence than hung between them, before Roy finally looked around at the other tables, and then back to his lover. "Hey, why don't we just pay for the drink and go back home? We can take a rain check on this dinner. I get the distinct feeling that you aren't in a fancy dinner mood."

Jean sighed. "Yeah. You're right. I'm not really in the mood to be here any more." He waved his waiter over and they took care of the bill, and then headed towards the exit. As soon as they were outside of the restaurant and on the curb, waiting to flag down a cab, Roy managed to sneak in a stealthy squeeze of Jean's hand.

"I promise, I'll make this up to you." He said, leaning in close so the howl of the brisk breeze that was blowing would drown out their conversation to everyone but themselves. "I'm gonna try to get a night off early sometime next week, and it will be your choice as to what we do that evening, okay?"

The taller man nodded. "Alright." He answered simply. As much as he didn't want it to, a tiny smile crept across his face as his mind traveled through all of the different tortures that he could inflict on Roy when they had the night off together.

Even will all of his faults, Jean inexplicably found himself loving the man even more.


	8. Theme 8: Storms

Title: I Love a Rainy Night  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #8- Storms  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1000 (no, really!!)  
Disclaimer: None  
Summary: The worst of memories can bring out the best in a person.

"You've hardly touched your food. It's your favorite- stir fry. What's wrong?"

As if to answer his question there was a quick flash of lighting, then a moment later, a rumble of thunder followed, right outside of the window of the small apartment they shared.

Roy picked at piece of beef with his fork, his glazed eyes staring past Jean- who was across the table from him, focused on some place far into the distance.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Not really hungry."

Jean sighed and stood up, taking his empty plate and Roy's mostly full one, and went to the sink in the kitchen to clean them. There was another flash outside, and Roy sank deeper into his chair.

When he was done, Jean pulled a chair close to the alchemist. He sat down and gave his lover a little kiss on the cheek. "Look, I know you're still a little upset about that whole Scar incident today, but it all worked out. Sure, he got away, but at least everyone survived."

Roy was silent for a moment before his eyes focused on Jean. "I could have died. I wasn't thinking. I was lost in the heat of battle. I don't know why I was thinking that I could make a spark in the rain. If it hadn't been for Hawkeye-"

"I know. I know that we have to be professional when we're in public, but I was scared. I admit that. You can't think about the 'what ifs'. What happened happened. Here we are. We're both fine, and we are talking about it. So it all ended up okay in the end."

Jean was silent for a moment. He was expecting, or hoping, for some sort of response from his lover, or at least an indication that he had heard and understood. But when it appeared that he wasn't going to get one, he quickly tried to think of a way to change the subject.

The blond looked out the window in the kitchen, just in time to catch a quick flash of lighting striking close by. A little smile grew on his face. "So, have you always been his chipper when it comes to storms?" He asked, trying to elicit a smile from the alchemist with a goofy grin.

He was half expecting not to get a response, so he was more than slightly surprised when Roy answered. "Yes," he said, simply. The alchemist got up from the table and walked towards the living room, making a motion with his head for Jean to follow him, which he eagerly did.

When they got to the living room, Roy say down in his favorite chair- an old, overstuffed, high backed ugly green antique chair that had been passed down through several generations. He poured himself a glass of scotch, and Jean flopped down unceremoniously on the couch nearby.

"When I was young, and I lived in the East, we lived in an area that was pretty dry. But when it rained, it tended to storm pretty badly. So I never really got used to having just a simple rain. "

"Shoot, we had rain all the time back East, where I lived. But I guess that I was north of you, where it rains more. You must've been closer to the desert." Jean leaned back and put his long, lanky arms behind his head. "At my parent's house, they had an old red barn out back, with a tin roof. When I was a kid, I used to love to sneak up to the barn at night- when I was supposed to be sleeping- and listen to the raindrops hit the roof. There's no sound quite like it."

Roy nodded, and took another sip of his scotch on the rocks. "I wish I could say that I had good memories of the rain, but I don't. I would lie awake as a child when it stormed. There was a huge oak tree that had grown right beside my bedroom window. It would scrape its branches against the window, making an unholy screeching noise as the wind blew it around."

"Geez, that's rough." Jean replied. "I guess that would scare me if I was a kid, too."

"I never told my parents about it, because my father was always so strict. He wanted me to grow up to be a strong, fearless man. I didn't want to disappoint him by telling him I was afraid of a tree outside my window. So I kept quiet about it, for many years. When I was a older, a lighting bolt hit the tree, and we finally had someone come and cut it down. By that time, the fear had been so deeply instilled in me, from years of having to endure that tortuous, infernal racket. I guess I never quite got over it, even all these years later."

"Wow." Jean was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

Roy shrugged and took a longer sip. "I guess I hadn't really thought about it for a very long time- until that… incident earlier today. For years, I thought I was over it, but I guess I'm not. How pathetic."

Jean gave him a long kiss on the lips, a goofy grin coming to his face after he broke it. "No, that's not pathetic. It means you're human," he replied. "I know that alchemists are supposed to super soldiers- or something like that, but you have the same strengths and weaknesses as the rest of us." He smiled and gave his lover another kiss. "Now, why don't you finish that drink and will see if I can think of something to do that'll make you forget all about this silly storm."

For the first time that night, a true, happy smile came to the alchemist's face. He took one last long draught on his drink, finishing it in one gulp. Roy stood up and squeezed his lover's hand lightly. "Lead on." He said.


	9. Theme 9: Blood

Title: Blood  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #20- Blood (Replaces #9- Mockery)  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: NC-17  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1394  
Disclaimer: Yaoi goodness, and some mentions of blood, not true bloodplay.  
Summary: Even after being with a person for a long time, you still learn something new about them every day.

**

"Jean, if you keep that up, these dishes are never going to get done. The sooner I get these finished, the sooner I can pay attention to you."

The blond pouted, but he did acquiesce, unwrapping his hands from around Roy's waist. "Aw, okay," he said grumpily. Roy turned back to the dishes that continued to soak in the sink, and Jean went back to the dinner table, making sure to scrape the legs of the table against the floor in an audible protest.

The alchemist finished the dished as fast as he could. He knew what kind of mood his lover was in, and he was just as anxious to get out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Unfortunately, he was too busy thinking about all the things that were going to happen later on, and he wasn't paying enough attention to what he was doing. While he was moving a plate from the sink to the drying towel, the still dripping wet plate slipped out of his hand and fell, shattering to the floor.

"Ah, crap," Roy exclaimed. He dried his hands and bent down to pick up the shards, then looked over to Jean. "I'm sorry. I know that was from he set your mom sent you. I'll try to re-make it if we can get enough of the shards together."

"It's no big deal," Jean replied. He smiled and backed away from the table, kneeling down beside his lover. "I already broke a couple when I was a kid. It isn't a full set. Besides, I was never a fan of that flowery pattern. Too girly for my tastes. I- OW!"

His conversation was cut short. He dropped the pieces that he had already picked up and brought his finger to his mouth. "Dammit," he muttered.

"You hurt yourself. Here, let me see." Roy put down his parts of the plate as well and moved closer to the blond, pulling his finger out of his mouth. It wasn't a big cut, but it was pretty deep, and it bled freely as soon as it was exposed to the air again. A line of red ran through the whorls of his finger, and down to his palm.

Gently, Roy took the finger and brought it to his own mouth, suckling at it lightly. The bitter, coppery taste blood coated his tongue and slowly dripped back towards the back of his throat.

The blond looked at his lover with a mix of confusion, pain and pleasure. The cut still hurt quite a bit, but he has always been quite partial to oral stimulation, and what Roy was doing was definitely starting to feel quite nice.

"Mmm," Jean groaned softly. Roy smiled and moved his mouth over to the next finger, where he alternated between sucking and light nibbling with the flats of his teeth. When he ran out of fingers, the alchemist leaned in and gave his lover a long, lingering kiss. Jean could still taste the slight metallic twinge of his own blood on Roy's lips and tongue.

"Feel better?" Roy asked, after they finally broke the kiss to swallow air.

"Hmm," Jean replied. "I think I may have bruised my knee yesterday when I was trying to move those boxes. Maybe you better take a look at it and make sure it's okay." A sly smile crossed his face.

"Well, we have a problem," Roy responded. "I can't see your skin through those pants of yours. I guess they're gonna have to go."

Jean didn't need to hear any more. He stood up and unbuttoned the black slacks that he had been wearing, letting gravity pool them around his feet. Roy kneeled in front of him, looking up with a smile. "They both look fine to me. Which one did you hurt?"

He pointed to his left knee, and the alchemist leaned in and gave it a soft kiss, right in the middle of the kneecap. "Is that better?" He asked.

The blond pointed to a small bruise on his left outer thigh. "It hurts here," he said, trying to look pathetic. Roy leaned up and kissed right above the bruise, letting his warm lips linger on his lover's skin for a moment longer than needed before he pulled away. "Anywhere else?"

Jean pointed up further, on the very edge of his thigh, where it met the soft blond curls of his nether regions. The alchemist raised an eyebrow and smiled up at his lover. "Somehow, I don't think that you're hurt there."

He tried to look hurt that Roy would doubt him. "So, you don't trust me, is that what you are saying?" He asked in mock resignation. "Would I lead you astray?"

Roy shook his head and grinned, but he kissed the area that Jean had been pointing to. His lips sealed around the tightly stretched skin and he suckled lightly at first, then increasing until he was sure that he had left his mark on his lover's thigh.

Silently, he moved his kisses inward, running his tongue through the mop of blond hair, then over to his cock, which was already standing at attention. "Looks like there is something else that I need to attend to." He said, kneeling in front of his lover once again. Roy put a hand on his thigh to steady himself, and then he opened his mouth and took a long lick down the underside of his length.

"Oh…" Jean groaned. His knees felt weak, and he put his hand on the top of Roy's head to help keep his balance. Roy smiled at the effect one simple touch had on his lover. He continued on, opening his mouth further and taking the tip of his cock into his mouth, letting his tongue lazily roam over the very sensitive head.

"R-R-Roy…" The blond dug his fingernails into his scalp. His eyes rolled back and his entire body started to shake. One of Roy's hands gently rubbed up and down the inside of Jean's thighs, the other stayed still, steadying himself in front of his lover.

The alchemist closed his eyes and started into a rhythm, bobbing his head forward and back over Jean's dick, alternating between a soft sucking and a gentle licking. He felt the blonde's grip tighten on his head, and he tried not to think about the pain that his freshly clipped fingernails gave him.

"Close…" Jean moaned. He moved his other hand to the table, where he tried to keep his wobbly legs from falling out underneath him. A fine sheen of sweat coated his brow, and his breath came in short, labored gasps.

This urged Roy on even more. He sped up, the licking and sucking coming hard and fast. His hand wandered to Jean's balls, where he rubbed them in soft circles, encouraging the man to give up what he wanted most. Jean whimpered, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Rrrf!" Jean arched his back on bit his lip when the orgasm hit him full force. Roy braced for the hard thrust, and tried to swallow as much of his lover's essence as he could, although a little trickled out of the corners of his mouth.

He rode the wave of pleasure as best he could, trying to move with Jean's bucking and writhing, until it passed. Roy took one last lick of the salty goodness that had pooled on the tip of his head, and licked his lips, leaning back on his heals with a satisfied smirk.

"Now, do you feel better?" He asked.

It took a moment to Jean to catch his breath enough to respond. "I… think… so…" He finally gasped. "What… about you?"

Roy looked down at the quite obvious tenting in his pants. He had been so absorbed in what he was doing that he hadn't even though about himself. "We'll worry about that in a few minutes. You just get your breath back, so we can continue this in a more appropriate location." He nodded his head towards the bedroom.

Jean grinned back, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. "You go ahead. I'll be there in a second."

"Alright," Roy replied. "Don't keep me waiting long, or else I might start without you."

"Not a chance." Jean shot back as the alchemist was walking away. "You are mine."


	10. Theme 10: Night, Evening

Title: Night  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #17- Night; Evening (Replaces #10- Road Trip)  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG-13  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1245  
Disclaimer: No real spoilers or anything. I guess it may be a companion piece with a similar theme to #9. Jean is the cook, not Roy this time.  
Summary: No matter how bad his day was, Roy always looked forward to night.

Even after the worst day, when his superior officers would yell at him, his subordinates would be as lazy and unmotivated as he was, and his paperwork would threaten to bury him alive, Roy could still look forward to his evenings.

For the most part, his evenings would start the same. He would get home, tired and hardly able to drag himself over the threshold, and as soon as the door opened, the smell of dinner would smack him in the face. Any weariness or foul mood would fade away as the odors wafted up his olfactory canal. Any bad feelings that were left were gone by the time he hung up his hat and greatcoat and walked into the kitchen to give his blond haired lover a kiss, making sure that he didn't startle him as he entered.

He knew that Jean tended to concentrate once he started cooking. He had a one track mind, focusing on nothing but the task ahead of him and paying little attention to the rest of the world. Roy had made the mistake once- a couple of months ago- of coming up behind Jean and giving him a small nip on the back of the neck.

They had a hard time coming up with an excuse at work the next day as to why Jean had burns on his hand, wrist, and arm.

"Good evening, love," Roy said as he kissed the back of the taller man's neck, running his tongue across the nape at the line where his sandy brown hair ended and eliciting a shiver. "What's for dinner?"

"Nothing, if you don't let me work," Jean chided, shaking his wooden spoon at his incorrigible lover. "But if you leave me alone for about five more minutes, we can have my beef stir fry and noodles, Then I'm all yours, I promise."

Roy pouted for a moment, but Jean had already turned back towards the stove and was back to work, not paying him a bit of attention. "Oh, so I'm not all yours all the time? I'm hurt."

The blond rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder at Roy, who had seated himself at the dinner table and was busying himself by reading the newspaper. "You know, you can help by setting the table," he replied. "The sooner we get done eating, the sooner I'll be all yours."

The alchemist sighed, but put up no more resistance. He had never liked to set the table, especially when ha been made to do it as a kid. In fact- he figured to himself as he was putting the plates down- the fact that he had been forced to as a child was most likely the reason that he still didn't want to, even over 20 years later. It seemed to strange to him that he would carry a grudge so long, but he was still trying to figure out a way (and failing) to try to get out of it.

Grumbling slightly under his breath, he finished setting the table, then went back to reading his newspaper until Jean finished preparing dinner. The blond filled their plates, than sat down and immediately tucked in.

"Mmm. This is great!" Roy exclaimed, after taking a couple of bites. "Where'd you get the recipe?"

"The same place that I got them all. My Ma taught me when I was growing up. I was their only kid, and she wanted a girl, so whether I wanted to or not, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen. I resented it at first, but I found that I had a talent for it, and I actually started to look forward to cooking. I guess that ended up working out pretty well, since I was living the bachelor life and cooking for myself-"

"Until a few months ago," Roy interrupted.

Jean nodded and smiled. "Yes, until a while ago," he sighed softly and his smile faded. "I'm sorry that I can't tell them about you. I know we've talked about this, and you don't mind. It's just… I don't think Ma would mind, but my dad- well, I don't think he'd take too kindly so an older man corrupting his only child."

"Do… you really think I'm corrupting you?" Roy asked, pushing the plate of food- that suddenly looked much less appetizing- away from him.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. If I thought that, I wouldn't be cooking for you I wouldn't… love you."

A warm smile filled the alchemist's face. "Let's just finish eating and not worry about things that are beyond our control. I already told you it's okay. I understand. I want to enjoy the here and now." Roy put his hand on top of Jean's and gave it a little squeeze before going back to his meal.

Quick work was made of the stir fry, and when the table was clean, they returned to the living room for the evening. Jean busied himself with disassembling and cleaning his gun for the half dozenth time this week. He had little else to do when Roy was otherwise engaged with his alchemy books, with a glass of scotch in one hand, and a scratchy record on the gramophone.

He had gotten about halfway through his cleaning when he was startled slightly by the dull thud and small a dust cloud from a particularly old and large alchemy book. "I guess you really didn't have this in mind when we were talking about what we were going to do after dinner, did you?" The alchemist asked with a sly grin and a wink.

Jean didn't answer for a moment, putting his gun back together in almost record time. He gave it a quick wipe down with a clean rag, and then put it to the side. "No, not really," he finally answered truthfully.

"Hmm. Let's see if we can't remedy that situation then," Roy replied. He finished off his scotch with one gulp, then put the glass down and pulled the needle off the record with a low scratching noise. He stood up and walked over to where Jean was sitting on the floor and offered him a hand, which Jean took quickly, grunting slightly as he shifted his weight and got to his feet. Like a lost puppy following his master, he fell into step behind his lover as they moved towards the bedroom.

Of all the times of the day, there was little that Jean looked forward to more than the evenings that he spent in the company of Roy Mustang.


	11. Theme 11: Books, Movies

Title: Reading Habits  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #13- Books; Movies (Replaces #11- Blind Date)  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG-13  
Genres: Romance, Humor  
Warnings: None, really.  
Word Count: 1336  
Disclaimer: No real spoilers or anything.  
Summary: A little book knowledge can be a very, very good thing.

**

"You are such a nerd."

Roy pouted slightly. 'I am not!"

"Then why are you reading in bed?"

"Oh, you'll find out later."

Jean raised an eyebrow, a confused look on his face. "What the hell does that mean?"

The alchemist leaned over and gave his confused lover a soft kiss on the top of his forehead. "Don't worry about it, love. You just go to sleep, and I promise I'll explain everything in due time."

Jean shook his head and shrugged. "I don't get you. You've been reading that book every night for the past week, and you won't let me see what it is. Then you keep telling me not to worry about it." Jean grumbled.

The blond tried to lean over and steal a look at the front of the book, to at least see the title, but Roy pulled it away gave him a stern look. He closed the book and put it on the bedside table. Even with Roy's body blocking his view, Jean saw the alchemic flash of white light before the room went dark again.

"There. Now you won't be able to read it if you wake up before me, which you won't. I know how much you love to get as much sleep as you can." Roy grinned and placated the man with a short kiss on the lips before he wiggled down underneath the covers and spooned up behind his blond lover. "I'm almost done, so I'll be able to tell you all about it tomorrow night, okay?"

"I guess." Jean conceded, defeat evident in his voice, still a little upset that Roy was keeping something from him. He let out a deep breath and pressed close to Roy before closing his eyes and quickly drifting off to sleep.

Jean was so busy at work for the next couple of days that for the most part, their little argument was shoved to the back of his mind. For most of the time, he was with a Brigadier General that was visiting from Central- shuffling him around from place to place and being his gopher when it came to getting him coffee and delivering documents to various points around East Headquarters.

He only passed Roy a couple times in the hall, and he was so busy that he hardly had time to acknowledge the alchemist. But that was fine with him. Whenever Jean had time to think about their conversation, he was still confused and upset at his ebon haired lover.

He was worn out, bone tired, by the time the end of the week finally rolled around. As usual, he met Roy at the military garage, where he drove them both back to the alchemist's apartment. The ride home was pretty quiet. Roy tried to start a conversation several times, but when the blond mostly answered in as few words as possible, he quickly gave up, and spent the rest of the ride looking out the window at the city whizzing past him.

As soon as they got home, Jean went into the kitchen without a word and started to make dinner, while Roy set the table and straightened up the living room a little bit. Dinner was just as quiet as the car ride. Without talking to get in the way of their food consumption, the meal didn't last long.

When it was over, Roy and Jean shared the duties of cleaning the dishes and the table. The two had been sharing the apartment for so long that the routine was almost second nature to them, and no words needed to be exchanged. After the kitchen was clean, Roy retreated to the living room, flopping down in his favorite old high backed chair. Jean followed him, but stayed standing a few feet away.

"I really am a bit tired," Jean admitted, letting out a yawn and a stretch. "I know you're almost done with that book- whatever it is, but I guess it'll just have to wait another day. I don't think I can stay awake for you to finish it."

Roy smiled slyly. "If you think you can stay awake one more hour, I promise that I'll make it worth your while." He stood up, walked up behind Jean, and wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist, pulling his back slightly into a tight embrace and leaning his head on Jean's shoulder. It never ceased to amaze him how lucky it was that their difference in height made them a near perfect fit.

"Well, alright," Jean finally acquiesced. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, when his lover placed soft kisses up and down his neck before finally breaking away.

"You stay here. I'm going back to the bedroom to finish reading. I'll come get you when I'm done." Roy kissed him one more time, and then smiled as he walked down the hall.

After watching his lover disappear into the bedroom and softly closing the door behind him, Jean made himself busy by glancing over the manual for his sidearm. He knew that he wasn't nearly as much of a bookworm as Roy was, and when he moved in, he only brought a few books with him- this being one of them. It was dog-eared and stained with coffee from years of being used and abused, but it still held together somehow.

Even if he had wanted to concentrate on the manual- though he had already memorized it long ago- between his utter tiredness and the increasing curiosity of what lay inside the book that Roy was reading, he found that attempting to read it was an impossible task.

By the time Roy came out of the bedroom and back into the living room- wearing a wide smile and his red terrycloth robe- a little over an hour and quarter later, Jean had stopped trying to read altogether, and had almost lost the fight to keep his heavily drooping eyelids open.

"Jean, wake up," Roy said with a grin, softly touching his lover's shoulder and gently trying to wake him. The blond looked up with sleepy eyes, glassy and distant, trying to focus on the large blob in front of him. A few moments later, his mind caught up, and he smiled slightly and nodded, trying to get his tired and uncoordinated limbs to propel him into a standing position.

Roy propped him up slightly, taking the taller and heaver man's weight on his shoulder while he carefully and slowly led him back to the bedroom. Any sleep that Jean was still trying to shake from his cobwebbed mind was gone, and his eyes went wide, as Roy opened the bedroom door.

The lights were off, but there were candles lit around the room, just enough to flicker against the edges the furniture, giving a hint of where they lay. There was a phonograph on a far table, and a piece of classical music that Jean didn't recognize (though he was sure that Roy knew all about it) was playing softly in the background.

"Come in," Roy almost purred seductively. An evil smile played against the corners of his mouth as he took Jean's hand and led him towards the bed in the middle of the room, before once again closing the bedroom door behind him.

Jean woke up the next morning- sore, yet extremely satisfied, with the book that Roy had been hiding for a week laying next to him. For the first time, he was able to read the cover, although the words 'Karma Sutra' meant nothing to him. He promised himself that he would ask his sleepy-headed lover about it when he finally woke, and chuckled to himself that this was the first that that he could remember since they had moved in together that he had woken up before the dark eyed alchemist.

And he swore than he would never again make fun of Roy's reading habits.


	12. Theme 12: Death

Title: Death  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Set & Theme: #1, #12- Death  
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist  
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang  
Rating: PG  
Genres: Drama, Romance  
Warnings: Definite spoilers for the manga, up to and including chapter 40.  
Word Count: 1324  
Disclaimer: No real spoilers or anything.  
Summary: Is there life, after death?

Author's Note. I know the last line changed from canon a little, but I took artistic license for the fic.

**

A bright light.

'How cliche.' He couldn't help but chuckle to himself as the blindingly white light engulfed him, making him squint his eyes and put his hand to his forehead, in an attempt to not go blind- not that it should matter where he was now.

'Well, at least I'm not in pain any more,' he mused. He tried to look down at himself- at the injury that Solaris- no- Lust- had given him, but the light was so strong that he couldn't even see his hand if he put it more than a couple of inches away from his tightly squinted eyes. Spots appeared at the sides of his vision and everything blurred so badly that his eyes watered.

'If this is death, then it isn't as nice I imagined,' he thought out loud. 'I thought it was supposed to be some sort of paradise. Or, maybe, I didn't make it there…' If he had been able to, he would have shivered in fear at that thought. 'Don't think about it," he scolded himself. His lips formed the words, but no sounds came from his mouth- which struck him as rather odd.

'If this is heaven it sure is boring," he shrugged, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all.

A voice.

For the first time, he heard a voice. It wasn't his, he knew that. It was much deeper and richer- oddly familiar in some way, though he was having a hard time placing it exactly. It had a dreamy, almost ethereal quality to it at first, like he was trying to listen from a long distance away. He wondered if he was just imagining it while he tried to scan his fuzzy brain to put a face or a name to the voice. The sound continued, growing louder and clearer, the fog that had been obscuring him slowly burning away.

It… sounded like his name.

'Oh, yes. My name. I think I'd almost forgotten it,' he thought. 'What was it again?'

"Jean."

It was the first word that he had been able to speak, since he arrived… wherever he was. "Jean. That is what the voice is saying-" And even as he spoke those words, he knew the voice.

That voice.

"Roy."

Just as quickly as the light seemed to overwhelm him, it dimmed and faded away. The absolute light was swallowed and replaced by absolute darkness- the darkest, deepest black had nothing on the impenetrable nothingness that now surrounded him.

"Roy…" he whispered, his voice once again failing him when he tried to call out. He fell to his knees- surprised that he could do that, since he felt nothing of any substance anywhere- under him, around him, or anywhere in this vast void. He shut his eyes tight, feeling warm tears start to form around the corners of his eyes, trying to shut out the ether around him.

"Jean, this is going to hurt. I'm sorry." He heard the voice, but he couldn't open his eyes, no matter how hard he tried. He tried to move, but it felt like he was made of lead. His arms and legs wouldn't respond to his commands. Even with all of that, he was sure that Roy was near.

And for the first time since his whole word had changed, he didn't feel quite so utterly alone.

"Roy." He tried to speak again, but his lips seemed to be glued shut, and his voice- like the rest of his body- failed him. He wanted to cry out for the alchemist- to see him, or at least feel the soft touch of Roy's hand on his.

Then the light came again.

But it was different this time. It wasn't the blindingly white light from before. It was orange and red and yellow.

And it was hot. So very hot.

Jean hadn't felt anything while he had been in the void. He had almost forgotten what the simple act of feeling had felt like. But he knew what this was, flickering in front of him, dancing with the slight flutter of a breeze that he hadn't noticed until then.

"I'm sorry, Jean."

Snap.

In a flash of heat and light, he felt once again- then the entire world went black.

__________________________________

Had it been a second, an hour, a day, a lifetime? Jean had no idea. The only thing he was sure of was that there was a light coming back into his vision.

It started low, and then it started to grow, slowly but surely. It was white, but not like before. It wasn't blinding and overpowering. It was dull and calm, almost relaxing compared to what he had seen before.

It was almost… nice.

He took a deep breath, long and full, like he had never taken one before in his life. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he felt something. He wasn't sure what it was at first, but with another deep inhale, it assaulted his senses. It was harsh and acidic, like cleaning products and fresh linens. It smelt like… a hospital.

Jean blinked his eyes. The light assaulted his pupils. It was almost too much at first, but after a few moments it became more bearable. All he could see were blurry shapes and blobs of colors.- real colors instead of the blinding white, absolute black, and red heat that he had seen before.

There were greens and blues, yellow and peach and black. Black- like his hair and eyes...

Him- the voice he had heard before. The memories of his last moments came back to him in a flood. The last thing he had seen was Roy's eyes starting at him as he fell to the ground in the warehouse.

"R-R-Roy…" His dry, cracked lips barely parted. His voice was low and harsh- barely a whisper. But, finally, it was his voice again- from his lips and his breath.

"Jean, I'm here."

Touch. He hadn't felt it in so long. It seemed like a lifetime. He could feel something touching his skin lightly. It was a finger, softly brushing against the back of his hand, so light it almost tickled his still sensitive skin.

The light finally started to even out. The blobs of color and shade became shapes, finally starting to clear into normalcy. He was in a fairly small room, with a window to his side and a bedside table beside him. There were a couple of chairs and other sparse furnishings around the small room. He was in a bed, sitting up slightly, wearing a green hospital shirt and a blue bed sheet covered about from his belly down. He groggily lolled his head to the side, and a smile finally came to his face.

"Roy." Jean winced slightly at his harsh, dry voice.

"Yes, Jean, I'm here," he repeated. "It was close for a while, but you're back."

'Back from where?' He wondered, but quickly shook it from his mind.

"I… missed you. "

"I missed you too," Jean replied, weakly squeezing his lover's hand with the tiny bit of strength that he had left.

For a moment, it was silent. Too silent for the blond. Jean finally noticed the worry that was shining in Roy's dark eyes, something that was showing in his face, though he couldn't tell what it was. He knew something felt off, but he was so heavily drugged, and it was hard to keep his eyes open and focused. What was it?

Something was… missing.

He looked, stared, at Roy- trying to catch a hint or a glimpse of what was going on. At first there was nothing, but then he caught slight movement from Roy's eyes- his vision shifted from his face, down to where the blue sheets met his midsection, then back. It was subtle, but enough for Jean to catch it.

Then, he understood.

"Roy, why can't I feel my legs?"


End file.
